Broken Souls
by James'Prongslet
Summary: SLASH. The shop was supposed to rip souls and attach them to the vessels, the dolls. Every winter day, the shop would lure a victim and the souls were forced to watch as another life ends as a tragedy because of the curse. But one day, Harry Potter set his foot inside the haunted place, and everything changed for the souls.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is not mine or else I wouldn't be obsessed with it.

**A/N: **Sorry for my grammar. Although, please review, criticism sometimes make a story better or you could also praise me. . . yep, that would be nice. The prompt is also not mine. Check the 3d short horror film in youtube titled 'Alma'.

**Prologue**

Another broken Christmas. An event that they all dreaded. A day, that for them, was cursed. A day to grieve. A day to remain paralyzed as they felt their soul being slowly ripped apart but yet, it was still there, steady and glued to their worthless vessels.

Forced to watch another soul being ripped apart, forced to mourn for another person's new tragedy, it was always like that at one particular cold winter day. When the shorter hand of the clock points at the number eight, they knew that it will begin again.

They always thought that their witch placed the clock right above the vintage glass door so that they would know when will the next tragedy happen. The clock itself had the purpose to make them suffer. It was there to taunt them. Another murder, the clock would tell them if it had its own consciousness.

The clock gets all its attention when the hand pointed at eight, eyes stared at it with intensity and fear.

Then at last, the eyes stared at the glass window, all of them waiting for something to happen.

Unfortunately, like every other winter, a youth would stare glass window of the shop, despite the thin ice covering the view, it was always useless because the shop itself had this spell cast on it to allure a particular person to enter the shop.

It was like a cinema, all of them waiting for the climax, and so it began.

The tale of one young Harry Potter at the early age of fourteen walked by the shop in the abandoned town that was once destroyed by the Nazis and was now believed as a ghost town.

He was always visiting the town because of its peacefulness and no one seems to care about the place anymore. Like the town, Harry too was isolated. Being adopted by the Dursleys who treated him as a freak and being a cousin to a bulky, frightening cousin like Dudley. . . . well, let's say it could be one of the worst childhood that one could encounter.

And maybe until now, he could say that his life was not the kind that someone would want. And so, Harry used this place to escape the horrid of his reality.

It was always the same, walking alone in winter until he finally get tired of it and go back to his 'hell hole'. But this Christmas, he could say that things turned out peculiar.

This shop captured the attention of Harry, so he stopped by, staring at it in wonder and curiosity. He doesn't know why but just staring at the shop made him slightly shiver, but nonethless, he can't help but thing that maybe, just maybe his could finally kill his curiosity that was bugging him and just enter the shop.

It should have made him stay away, with the creepy old dolls inside of it and this coldness that he felt was inside the shop just by giving it a glance.

The shop should be destroyed by now, with the recent war that he was grateful he got through even though experiencing it with the ghastly Dursleys.

But alas, the shop was. . . well, whole, but it looked old like it was abandoned a very long time ago.

He stared at every corner and even the eyes of the dolls looked like it was trying to cast him away of the shop.

One doll made him stay though. He had this feeling of guilt and a gleam of excitement which he was confused about because it was mixing inside of him.

Guilt because at some point he wanted to steal the beautiful doll and run away, but stealing for him is a very wrong deed for him that would somehow make him uncomfortable for a lifetime. Excitement because he just saw this doll that made his heart skip a beat.

To his surprise, the doll was very much like him. Untamed raven hair, two deep pools of deep green that stared back at him, pale features, even his glasses and timid looking posture of it while it was just standing at the shelf.

He couldn't help but smile and look closely at the doll in awe.

He wanted to touch it. He could. There was no one there. No one would be mad at him, blame him for something he didn't do, because for all he knew, the owner wouldn't be so careless just to leave a shop like this. Perhaps, it was really abandoned after all.

His hand was halfway there, about to stroke the cheek of the doll. He was so close. So, so close.

The audience was holding their breath. This was it. The climax. The center of the story. A boy finding his very own tragedy.

He held back his hand.

No.

He couldn't touch this doll. The temptation might make him steal it. He promised himself.

He promised himself that even though they're gone, he would make his parents proud, as proud as they could be. And this would be the end of it, the end not even reaching the beginning.

He stared at the doll in sympathy, maybe to himself because he just wanted to grab it right away but he couldn't.

Finally, he turned his back to the shelves of dolls and walked to the door, grabbed the doorknob and left the audience, astonishing them with the very unexpected turn of events.

Their vessels might be paralyzed, but inside of them was their souls, finally finding hope. The boy must return, he should. He was their hope.

He was their chosen one.

Finally, the curse didn't find another vulnerable victim and inside, the dolls of the haunted shop rejoiced.

One day, the curse could be gone like what happened to the boy before it even started.

The souls inside the dolls found hope. At the day Harry Potter visited was the day the audience and the character's destiny began.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter is not mine.

**A/N: PLEASE REVIEW. And excuse me for my grammar. You should really check out the prompt for this story, it's a 3d short horror film titled as 'Alma'. I promise, it will help you through the story.**

**First Chapter**

The Boy-Who-Lived. That's what he calls him. The first ever person who managed to resist the curse. The killing curse. It does not exactly kill its victim, but from what they were experiencing, it was daily torture, very much close to killing you on the inside out. The worst part, it never stops for them. And they thought it never will. Until the unknown boy made a short visit in the shop last week ago.

Being cursed for years, some of them even a hundred, the souls managed to be patient through time. It's pretty much what happens to you if your stuck in your vessel and know that you can never move again once you're trapped.

They were trapped, hopeless, and broken souls.

Draco Malfoy pretty much figured it all out after a long, long time. Being raised as a Malfoy made him conceited, prideful, cunning, and born to follow his father's steps. One thing is for sure, he never gives up.

The killing curse changed his view. He learned to give up, to finally blame himself, and to feel powerless. The cursed changed the person he once was.

When Draco sighted Harry staring before the shop, he couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy. He look so innocent, vulnerable, and kind, and Draco couldn't help but feel a deep remorse for the boy. Who knows what the future will bring to him if he didn't found this shop. He could have married someone, they could build a future together, in a house with children running and laughing around, and both him and his wife could grow old together. Yet, of all things that could happen to him, he stopped by the haunted shop.

Another victim. Another soul. Another murder.

The boy was about to touch his vessel. He was so close. Almost there.

Draco hoped he could close his eyes, but he couldn't. It was a part of the torture, to see someone falling for the killing curse, it was one of the hardships that the witch wants them to experience.

He would held his breath if he had a heart, but he was now only a soul.

The boy stopped. It was so close. An inch between his finger and the cheek of his doll version. The boy looked hesitant. It was the first time someone reacted like that. Everyone, including him, didn't even think before being lured to their vessel and touching them in amazement.

To his and everyone's amazement, the boy dropped his hand, turned his back to their shelves, walked to the door, and went outside.

Deafening, thick, silence wrapped around the cold, cursed, shop. It was always silent in the shop, but for the first time, there was a reason. Everyone was astonished.

It was a long time before he recovered, he wanted to cry. Hope. Happiness. Relief. Confusion. The emotions were exploding inside of him. He wanted to scream, he wanted to raise his hand and grabbed a handful of the boy, to exclaim that he didn't want him to leave, to cry a question about what just happened, but he couldn't.

He finally found someone who stepped inside the shop and didn't got cursed.

Hope and terror was slowly consuming every bits and pieces of him. Hope that the boy might come back, the boy might be curious about them, and they could make a way to make him notice that there's something wrong in the shop, that they were cursed, and he might help them. Terror, that maybe, just maybe, he might not come back.

What Harry Potter didn't know was a hundred of souls was relying on him, hoping for him to come back, in the shop of what could be more than just a creepy, abandoned place for dolls. A shop in which the lives of a hundred people were cut down. In which a hundred souls were trap.

BSBSBSBSBS

"Freak! Come back here!" Dudley and his friends were chasing him like a predator hungry for its prey. Too bad their weight and the deep snow covering the street was making it much easier for Harry.

When he finally got rid of them as he ran into an alley, all he could do was sigh heavily in relief.

The next thing he did was think about where to stay. Unfortunately, the sky was still dropping its usual snow at winter which was terribly cold if you are just wearing thin layers of clothing. That's when he knew that he would be a dead and cold meat if he stayed outside any longer.

He ran for the first place that he could think of. The shop.

Apparently, while he was making his way to the shop he stepped on what seems like the sign for the shop. He wiped the snow covering the sign off and read it with a tinge of excitement inside of him.

Lestrange.

He was sure that it was a family name from its sound but he never heard of it.

Shrugging carelessly, he threw the sign back to its place and entered the shop. It wasn't that warm, but it was enough to ease up the coldness that was wrapping around him.

The question as to why he hadn't seen the shop before still lingers inside his mind. His feet wandered around stone cold floor until he was facing the shelf again.

Realization dawned on him when he looked closely. The doll that looked exactly like him was gone. He eyes searched frantically for the doll but didn't find it in its shelf. He turned around and jumped back in fear when he saw the doll that he was searching for, it was placed on a small display table, its back turned at him but he recognized it clear as day.

After his reaction, he suddenly heard a cracking noise. A glass breaking. He turned around in an instant to see that he broke a glass doll. He took a step back, panic quickly travelling in his nerves.

He didn't know what to do so he picked the doll up and the pieces of glass that shattered when it fell down.

The owner might still 'exist' since the doll version of himself managed to be there right behind the big glass window that's supposed to display itself to public. And that means that the owner might find out about the doll that he shattered to pieces because of his clumsiness.

A thought crossed his mind and he knew that he should put the doll back together, then maybe there won't be hard feelings between him and the owner, or maybe he could be even luckier than that and the owner might never find out that he even exists once he repair the glass doll.

He quickly made his way outside the shop and it felt like his burden lessened.

He gave the doll a short glance.

He promised that he would put the doll back together. It would be perfect again, like the blonde, pale, with silver eyes, doll that it used to be. But first, he needed to hide the doll from the Dursleys.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I wouldn't be in the fandom otherwise. **

**A/N: Please review, it would really help me build the story. **

**Second Chapter**

How odd, how peculiar it is that time seems to be one of the fastest thing in the world for some people. One day you were just having this sophisticated, strict, and cold life and then the next thing you knew, it all ended in a bliss. His life slowly faded away, he lost it, but it never disappeared, it was never gone. It was there for a moment, but he lost his grasp to it. He even lost the chance of taking it back again.

He watched still and quiet as the world around him changed. You can only see a tiny bit portion of the world just by staring at the glass window. He watched as the shop across them got destroyed by the civil war, he heard the people screaming and running for their lives, orphaned children were there, just outside that glass window, roaming the streets.

He watched as Harry Potter entered the shop for the second time. This time, he was relief that instead of the doll tempting him, he became scared of it. His reaction though, caused him to jump back and slowly hit Draco Malfoy's vessel.

He was fragile and that fall caused him to shatter to pieces. It didn't hurt. His soul was trapped in the body and nothing more, he couldn't feel pain physically and for once he became grateful for that because he was at a rather higher shelves than the others.

He watched as the Boy-Who-Lived picked him up and carried him to his chest, he was holding him like he would break again at any moment. He watched as he was carried outside the shop.

It took him a long time before he recovered from astonishment.

No one, not even one doll managed to step a foot outside the shop. It was their prison. The moment that they enter the shop, their soul will be bound to it. Forever.

He couldn't help but make a small prayer inside his mind. He really believe now, in all his heart and soul, that the Boy-Who-Lived could save him.

**BSBSBSBSBS**

Harry managed to sneak inside his bedroom without even receiving a glance from the Dursleys. He praised himself for doing all his chores before getting chased by his useless cousin.

Although, he should still be careful and aware. The lock to his bedroom was only outside the door in case he does something his walrus of an Uncle decides to punish him. Someone might enter his room at any second and they would quickly notice that he 'stole', as he imagined that they would say it, a doll and brought it inside the house.

He unfolded his arms and laid the parts of the doll on his bed. He stared at it.

The doll seems expensive since it was glass, and it was rare to see one nowadays. You wouldn't expect to encounter one after going through the war. His face, his clothes, even his glass blonde hair was covered in dust. It was a satisfying doll, in his opinion, and it was really idiotic for the owner to just leave it in that shop.

He picked a handkerchief from his coat and wiped the dust off the whole doll.

Even though he just had it for a while, he had this passion and care that he wanted to give the doll that the owner hasn't. He smiled at it, and his green orbs was enough to see that he already liked the doll.

"I'm so sorry for breaking you," he said. "It was so careless of me. But don't worry, I'll fix you."

The doll didn't respond as expected but instead gave him a smile that was plastered in its face permanently.

**BSBSBSBSBS**

Harry. His name is Harry. Draco finally got his name. Harry, his savior, his light, his hope. For once, the smile that was placed in his vessel was the truth. He finally found a reason to smile again.

Harry was alone, he figured, which was unfair. The boy was kind, passionate, and caring to him even though he was just a doll. Harry once cleaned his suit that he's been wearing for ages, polished him and his broken pieces, then found a way to glue him back together. He held him with gentleness and also smile at him for unknown reasons.

Harry's uncle and aunt abuse him. He would sometimes come to his room with small bruises, a mark in his wrist like someone grabbed the life out of him, and there would also be tears in the corners of his eyes. Harry would jumped on his bed and stare at him on his usual place, the bedside table. Harry likes to place him there.

He wanted to wipe the tears away, wanted to kiss his forehead when the boy would cry in front of him, he wanted to whisper every soothing words that he could to his ears, embrace him, care for him, comfort him.

He didn't know why he felt that way towards the boy, but it was inside of him. He wants to protect Harry Potter, and he would make a way to be by Harry's side.

**BSBSBSBS**

Harry stormed his way out of the kitchen after having a heated argument with his uncle and aunt. He slammed the door to his bedroom and jumped into his bed.

He cried and tears were streaming down his eyes. He buried his face on his pillow and there came the muffled sobs. He was shaking uncontrollably and his nails were digging its way to his pillow.

He didn't felt comfortable crying in front of his doll after a few days of caring for it. It was all that he had. Somehow, he felt like its silver orbs were watching him in his bedroom which he ignored unless he's crying, so he hid his tears were the doll couldn't watch him cry. For once, he felt, he hoped that the doll was only faking a smile at him. That behind that smile was sympathy, that someone would somehow care.

He laughed.

No one cares for him, and now he was losing his mind, desperate for a companion, for someone to be there for him, and even considering a doll.

He shook his head and after that, cried himself to sleep.

He didn't notice a figure kissing his forehead and someone draping a blanket over him, but he felt warmth, he felt someone's presence, lulling him to sleep.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine or else it would never exist because right until now, I haven't even finished one of my stories. . . . **

**A/N: **Can you please review? Still, thank you for reading. . . tell me if you have any problems with the story.

He was a murderer. A killer. The source of it all. He shattered the future of so many people.

He watched as the Potters stepped inside the shop. He knew their last name because the couple was sweet-talking each other, referring to each other in their last name. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were innocent and so happy, not knowing the curse that was after them, waiting for another of its prey. And the worse thing was they had a child, a child that they should be coming home to and it tortured him to know that because of him, the child would lose his parents and become an orphan.

He watched as the beautiful Ginny walked inside and looked around in awe, her eyes glued to the dolls surrounding the shop and the next thing she knew, her soul was trapped inside of her meant to be vessel, looking outside the glass window of the shop as her four brothers came looking for her screaming her name countless times. It was the same thing for a year, the whole family was searching for her, her mother in the arms of her father, crying, her sobs echoing inside his mind, until they finally gave up.

He watched as a blonde youth entered, his composure, strict and with pride even at such a young age, his silver eyes filled with coldness. The boy could have changed his path, could have taken risks in the distant future that could change his life into a happy one, he could have had a choice to make a future for himself without him carrying darkness all around him, but the curse broke his chance of even thinking about those things.

Tom Riddle Jr., he himself, knows that he was a murderer. He blamed himself for making the curse and the shop in ruins exist.

**BSBSBSBSBS**

Harry beamed at the doll.

It was like the light to his darkness. The doll somehow made things lighter for him just by its presence. His heart always softened when he looks at it with love.

Two weeks. Two weeks and he'd come to love the glass doll. He sometimes couldn't help but think that maybe fate has finally decided to give him something. He had nothing until the doll came to him.

At first, the smiles that he gave to the doll were meaningless, just a simple gesture to smile back at it because it was also somehow smiling at him too without any reasons. But then, his smiles became a thing or two to express his feeling for the doll.

It wasn't a long time before he made small talks to the doll even though it couldn't respond. Maybe his depression was finally triggering at him and he's finally losing his mind. Maybe it was just his desperation, but it made things okay.

**BSBSBSBSBS**

Harry loved him.

He would always look closely at Draco and see if there was even a tinge of dust on him, he would wash Draco's clothes at about two times a week, Harry would always give him a genuine smile for unknown reasons, and his actions were just shouting it. Shouting that he loved Draco just for being there.

"I really don't get why the owner left you and the others in that shop," Harry said this one time. "It was his loss though. I mean, you're a beautiful doll," Harry stroked his cheek with gentleness and care, treating him as a fragile thing.

Harry's fingers suddenly stopped halfway from making another stroke. He froze for quite a long time and Draco started to worry. What was wrong with his Harry?

Then, Harry stared at him and narrowed his eyes.

"I can't believe it," he exclaimed. "I don't know your name, you don't have one."

A pang of sadness suddenly hit Draco as realization dawned on him. He knows Harry really well, yet Harry doesn't know a tiny bit about him.

"How about Skylar? Not really," Harry shook his head. "Henry? Too common. Colin? It really doesn't fit you. Drake? It's close but. . . how about we add fierceness to that. Draco?"

He know that he was paralyzed but he would have froze if he's not. Maybe it was just a big coincidence or maybe it was one of Harry's hunch.

"Yes, Draco would be fine," Harry said before he chuckled. "I'll call you Draco, Draco."

**BSBSBSBS**

The bruise ended up in his skin because of something to do with unfinished chores.

It took all his strength to calm down, not to break free from his vessel, and kill, torture, and make the Dursleys scream for hurting Harry.

He wanted to stroke Harry's cheeks and kiss his forehead and make him feel better. Tears were forcing their way out of the beautiful green eyes that was now covered with sadness. He himself wanted to howl in pain for not being able to comfort Harry.

It was then that Harry realized that his only companion for now was Draco. He was all that he had. Crying in front of Draco made him uncomfortable again. He stroked the pale cheek and smiled at it even though it hurts, the bruise right beside his lips was still fresh.

"I'm okay, Draco. . . " he said. Draco couldn't understand, he wanted to ask out really loud why he could still manage to smile at him after what his relatives have done to him. "Just. . . . Just stay. Please."

Draco was crying in the inside.

He cried himself to sleep again and Draco would come out of his vessel. He figured out that he could do it because the curse was stronger when he was in the shop, maybe because of the distant of the source of the curse, he managed to get himself out of his vessel.

He kissed the forehead of the boy that was sleeping mutely in his bed.

That night, he promised himself that he would get Harry out of this hell.

That night, Draco didn't care that he slept beside Harry.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine**

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! My heart exploded! But still, let me know your opinion on this chapter. You are never a mean person when it comes to abusing the Dursleys

**Fourth Chapter**

These past few days, the Dursleys seem to be more strict and stuck out their eyes more on Harry. Every muscles moved, every words said, they would seem to be aware of it these days, because whenever Vernon Dursley would lock him inside his room the youth would give him a weird look.

He was unable to finish some of his chores these days because of being in company with Draco. The Dursleys grew suspicious of this, although he was lucky that he had been able to hid Draco from his uncle while he was 'on patrol', looking inside Harry's room at night to check if he's doing anything at all.

When his uncle would turn the lock outside his room, he would have this bit of gleam in his eyes knowing that his uncle would now be asleep with his horse-like wife together in bed now which he really didn't need to imagine, thank you very much. He could finally stay up all night, taking him until midnight to be with Draco.

This midnight was different though, when his uncle was on patrol he forgot to lock the door, his uncle was really getting old.

He was about to sleep. He gladly lay down his body on his bed, took his glasses off, and tucked himself in. But, before his tiredness completely consumed him he heard a knock at the door.

He almost rolled himself out of his bed but he was still, every nerves in his body was betraying him. He slowly sat up, wore his glasses, suddenly noticing his immediate trembling out of fear.

He figured that it wasn't the Dursleys. They weren't kind enough to knock at his door, even in his wildest dream, it seems beyond possibility.

Harry never believed in ghosts either. In fact, it was also be a miracle if a ghost choose the residence of the Dursley. No. Just no. Why would a ghost put itself in misery by entering a house with a fat, obese, child with his butt always glued to the couch, a walrus of a man as the head of the family, and his aunt who has a worse eyesight than him that she sees her family as a perfect one.

He walked slowly to the door, which was an idiotic approach actually, but he had no weapon so he decided that he would beat the crap out of the guy behind that closed door the moment one of them open the door first.

He also wished that the Dursleys would at least be merciful if not kind just by giving him a lampshade if this kind of situation occurred, but no such luck.

He cursed the door that he was walking on, it was giving small shrieks whenever he took a step, for heaven's sake he wasn't even that heavy.

He wanted to grab a weapon or jump out of the window but those were off of the table.

It was like the longest walk of his life, he felt as if he was welcoming a murderer. He gripped the doorknob like his life depended on it and open the door not without it creaking.

He was holding his breath, at a moment there he forgot to breath. Standing there at his doorway was a body, floating at about an inch from the floor, the figure was transparent that Harry only managed to see it because of the mere glow that was wrapping around 'it'.

It managed to utter a single word, the silence in the entire house making it seem like it shouted the word.

"Help."

And, as if on queue, he fainted.

**BSBSBSBS**

". . . upid freak!" The voice wake him up and made him notice the uncomfortable coldness that was not his bed.

His on the floor yet he didn't have a single idea how and why. He groaned as he his backbone become sore when he was only halfway from sitting straight up. He could also have groaned even more when he saw his uncle's face but, of course, that would earn him some pretty messed up consequences.

"Wha. . .?" He hadn't even finished that single word before the whole Dursley Family's glare made him fully wake up.

"Boy, what is this!?" His uncle asked him, his tone slightly intimidated him but even though the question was asked in a calm manner he wouldn't have known the answer to that.

"I don't know why I'm here," he said. "I swe- -"

It hit him like he jumped right in front of a train. Something to do with ghosts. Yes, that's it. He saw an apparition last night, just thinking about it made him want to faint again.

"What is it?" His aunt hissed. "Have you lost your tongue, boy?"

"No, I. . . . I. . . ." he didn't know what to say or what not to say.

Before his uncle decided to clutch his shirt and scream at him, the doorbell rung and everyone paused.

"I'll get that," his aunt said before giving him a look. "Vernon, honey, don't do anything to that freak, it might be the neighbors. I don't want my image getting stained."

He sighed in relief, earning a glare from the three of them.

"In your room," his uncle said. "Now!"

He jumped up and carefully closed the door before sighing heavily in relief again.

**BSBSBSBS**

To her dismay, Petunia Dursley didn't get the visit that she expected. Instead, he saw a man standing at her porch steps not without getting extremely curious about the whereabouts of the man. Maybe he was just going to ask for directions.

"May I help you, sir?" She asked.

The man smiled at her, his eyes twinkling showing more of his wrinkles at the side of his eyes.

"Ah, Mrs. Dursley?"

"Yes, that's me," she said before giving him a nervous small laugh. It might perhaps be unpaid bills or something of importance.

"I'm here for important matters to discuss with you and also your husband as well."

"And who are you, sir?"

"I'm Albus. Albus Dumbledore."


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.**

A/N: I read all the reviews and I'm sorry for the delay of answer, but, here. I'm going to ask your questions.

**The awesome one: yes, I did said in the prologue that I got the idea from the youtube video titled 'Alma'. . . I'm thankful that you loved the story**

**DarkDreamer1982: I'm really glad that you're liking my stories and for the rest of your questions, I don't want to give you some spoilers since the cliffhangers itself were made to make the story exciting. **

And thanks for everyone else who loved the story and please don't forget to tell me what you think about this chapter with another cliffhanger on it :D

**Fifth Chapter**

He was staring into space, having unnecessary flashbacks that he didn't even wanted to remember but it still haunts him.

There's a ghost roaming around the residence of the Dursleys. He would've laughed a few days back but right now, that very sentence made chills run down his spine. He didn't know what he's supposed to do when a ghost came floating right in front of your bedroom's doorway asking for help.

He suddenly had crazy ideas like, muttering to himself like crazy.

"Oh god, what if someone is killed inside of this house?" He paused before gulping nervously. "What if my good for nothing relatives killed someone in this house? What if I'm next? They hate me!"

He choked when the doorknob turned itself and his aunt entered his room, her eyes narrowed and her expression was stern. He forced himself not to whimper and choke it back down into his throat. This might be his end.

"Boy," his aunt growled his usual name under his relative's roof. "Did you contact anyone while you weren't in our watch?"

"Wha. . . No," he said, narrowing his eyes at his aunt.

"Liar!" She snapped. She walked to Harry and glowered at him. "I would have you know that this man came searching for you! What was his name. . . Yes, Albus Dumbledore."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, afraid what her aunt might do to him.

"He wants you downstairs," she hissed. In only a brief second, she was already gripping Harry's wrist, her nails digging into his skin. Harry only managed to make a small whimper forcing its way out of his throat. "Do not speak of nonsense about us. I want you to make him believe that we're treating you right, or else. . . ."

"I will! I promise!" He said in a rush.

She quickly let go but still glared daggers at him before going to the door and gesturing for Harry to gather his wits and go meet this Albus Dumbledore.

Petunia Dursley's shallow face changed in a flash into a face plastered with a motherly smile. Harry gave her aunt a mere glance and he caught the face that his aunt made as a warning before changing it back to beam at Dumbledore.

Everything was just so wrong at every angle and the act that her aunt was putting up with was really creeping him out. All he really wanted to do now was run away from this place because a ghost was apparently floating its way around this house and her aunt seems to be possessed with demons.

That's a lot to deal with all at the same time.

"Ah, here he is!" His Uncle Vernon said in a I'm-a-very-good-citizen-of-america tone. Harry didn't know if he should slap his face right now in front of everyone because he highly suspects that he is inside a nightmare.

"And you should be Harry Potter?" Dumbledore stood up and offered his hand. "I am Albus Dumbledore."

He shook the man's hand and gave him a small flat smile. He feels like he couldn't act okay with this man in the room, he feels sick and for a second there he thought he saw Dumbledore gave him a curious glance as if asking if he's okay.

He shook his head telling himself that it was just imagination and nervousness welling inside of him.

"Why are searching for me, sir?" He asked to break the silence, Dumbledore must've notice, everyone would have because the tension was so thick.

"I'm here to inform you about your family matters," Dumbledore told him and he froze on his spot.

"W-what?" He stuttered. "You must be mistaken, sir. My parents were long gone."

"Yes. It's such a shame that they just disappeared without a trace," Dumbledore said in a low voice.

"Oh," was all that he managed to say. His parents disappeared? This was the very day that he got informed about what happened to his parents. "Still, I don't understand your motive, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Yes, I've been trying to contact you since you were of age, Harry," Dumbledore said. "See, your parents didn't actually left you with nothing. They signed you up in this prestigous and special school where I am headmaster. It is actually managed by the government itself and the only way to be a student in the school is by having parents that were once students in the school and sometimes we pick the student ourselves according to their special qualifications."

Every single one of them was now gaping at Dumbledore. Harry would have laughed, would have asked if the old man was crazy, if this was a prank manipulated by a reality TV show, but the sincerity and seriousness in his voice was just so believable.

"But. . . But. . ." He was at a loss for words, he slowly shook his head trying to deny what rubbish the man was saying.

"No buts, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Do you really think that I would go this far if this was all nonsense? That will be absurd. You have to accept and be happy with the fact that your parents made you enter this school. There is a great path ahead of you."

"But. . . Err. . . WHAT!?"

"Proffesor, you must be kidding," Petunia chuckled nervously. "Harry here is just. . . is just Harry. Nothing speacial about him. Why would you reach out to him right now?"

Harry winced at the harsh comment and tried his best to ignore it.

"As I said, we've been trying to contact him or even his relatives but I was always too late and that's because your family had been suspiciously moving from places to places. . . almost like you're avoiding something or someone."

"Well, that's because I've always been shedding sweat and blood for my family to move houses for years for protection," Vernon said suddenly joining the uproar in the house. "With the civil war happening, it was chaos, sir! It was the best way to protect them."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, then nodded as if considering his reason.

"You're a very good man, Mr. Dursley, putting your family first and all that. . ." Dumbledore said. Harry almost slipped a laugh right out of his mouth but covered it with a cough. "But that's not all that I wanted to say."

"There's more, sir?" Petunia asked with a hint of fear in his voice.

"Yes, Mrs. Dursley," Dumbledore said. "Harry's parents here have been loyal to the school and so we want Harry to have a special treatment with the years that got wasted while he unexpectedly didn't start his studies at Hogwarts."

"The school's name is Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said with pride. "And you, Harry will be attending it."

"B-but. . ." His aunt's voice quivered. "Harry's school here has low status when it comes to educating the students, he might have a really really hard time to keep up with your educational system. You yourself said that it was a prestigous school after all."

"Then I would assign him to home study first before coming to our school. Since we are now halfway to the end of this school year, Harry here might be attending next year."

Harry's emotion was almost happy if it wasn't for that statement that got his spirit crushed. But he would still get home study anyway, so that's fine with him.

"How about paying for his fees?" Vernon asked.

"Since the school is from the government, then the government also pays for the fees of the students," Dumbledore stated firmly as if he's used to getting asked with that question. "Do you have any further questions?"

"No, there's nothing more that we could ask, Mr. Dumbledore," his aunt said, jumping from her seat in excitement for the headmaster to leave the place.

"I will be going then."

When they were at the doorway, Dumbledore flashed a smile at him and twinkled his eyes.

"Oh, Harry," he said. "Mr. Lupin will be happy to tutor you."

And with that, he left.


End file.
